Chapter 34
Later in the afternoon, we hear a commotion outside and gather around the windows to find a media van pulling up to our house.
“Why are they back? What did you do this time?” Gavin asks. Mom and Dad stand behind him, staring at me with the same judgmental glare that I can’t say I don’t deserve. But it’s not what they think, not this time.
“I called them,” I say. “I told them to make sure to come in a diesel-run van and with wired cameras that transmit recordings through video data.”
They’re taken aback by my admission, but instead of disappointment, curiosity fills their expressions.
“But why?” Mom asks.
“It was because of me that the town was being ridiculed. I was no better than the Vogue article. It’s why I had to call the press back.
Because that’s what you do when you care about people.
You show up for them when they need you, not when you need them.
” I look out at the camera crew. It’s not the big horde I’m used to, and yet my fingers tremble when I go out to meet them.
The news reporter doesn’t wait for me to get close before lobbing questions at me.
“Elena, we know your success in the media has been affected by your family’s business failure. Have you decided to give up your public image altogether? Is that why you’re hiding in this town?”
I have a lot to say about that. I’m not hiding, and I don’t care about my public image or the bankruptcy of my family’s business. Not anymore, at least.
“Thank you for coming today. The purpose of this interview is to talk about something very important to me. I want to clear up some misconceptions about this town. Blaire is a remote town that is closed off from the rest of the world, but there’s a good reason for it.
The observatory here has a radio telescope that is advancing our understanding of space discovery.
Due to the restrictions on radio wave interference, the town has to live in a National Radio Quiet Zone. ”
I explain what all of that means. How Wi-Fi and other radio wave signals can interfere with the work they’re doing at the observatory.
How the town has chosen to give up certain technologies for another technology that can serve the greater good of our population with its contributions.
I end by explaining that the town’s resources prioritize the observatory and that the Blaire Fair is a way to support the town’s needs.
I give all the details about when, where, and what goods will be sold.
Still, the reporters try to press me for more about my personal life here, and I shut them down every time.
After I say everything I want them to know, I thank them and leave.
“Do you think that worked?” Gavin asks as we watch the van drive away.
“I don’t know. But I know I did what I felt was best in the situation. And I have no regrets.”
“Elena.” Gavin hesitates. “About before. I’m sorry about being so harsh. I know you have good intentions.”
“I know. And I needed to hear it.” I nod appreciatively. “I’m sorry too. For Callie.”
His face falls as soon as I mention her name.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
—
For the next two days leading up to the Blaire Fair, I lie low.
Not intentionally, although I am nervous about meeting Callie, Brennan, and the rest of the town.
I haven’t been a good friend to any of them, and it showed.
With all the different kinds of kimchi Mom makes with Gavin’s help, we have our work cut out for us jarring all of it in time for the Blaire Fair.
There’s traditional cabbage, radish, and cucumber.
There’s even a “white” kimchi that is pickled in a clear liquid.
In the evenings I work on a simple design for the labels, calling it Shik-gu Kimchi.
Because our time together is what enhances the flavor, making it as tasty as it is unique.
Mom loves it, and she agrees to seal each label with her signature.
“You are more capable than I gave you credit for.” She gently pinches my chin, regarding me with admiration. “I would never have come up with a label this clever, let alone the Blaire Fair.”
Being recognized for my efforts is all I’ve ever wanted from her. And as much as I’d like to take all the credit, I can’t.
“Remember when you told me that the only person I can rely on is myself?” I ask Mom.
She nods. “Well, I don’t think that’s entirely true.
People need people. I’ve always believed that.
We’re not meant to live in solitude. And before you thought reliance on others was my biggest problem.
But I think you were wrong. My biggest problem wasn’t depending on people.
It was the type of people I was depending on.
” I sit down next to her and explain how the Blaire Fair might have been my idea, but it wouldn’t have happened if not for the help of good friends.
On Thursday morning we pack up all the jars of kimchi in boxes and load the tractor. Mom and Dad go ahead first, and Gavin and I walk behind them.
“Nervous?” Gavin asks, probably from the silence and definitely from the way I’m gnawing on my lower lip.
I nod.
“You did everything you could,” he says reassuringly.
“Yeah, but you know how the media can be. They edit what they want. What if they leave out all the important details of the Blaire Fair and only zero in on me ‘leaving Hollywood’ or whatever?” I say, using scare quotes.
“In trying to make the town look better, what if I only succeeded in making it seem worse?”
His silence only validates my fears. What happens if no one turns up? How else can I make it up to Callie and Brennan, the mayor, and the co-op? How can I prove to them that I care?
“No matter what the outcome, I know what your true intentions are.” A beat later he adds in a quieter voice, “If that means anything.”
“That does mean something.” My voice cracks, and I’m unable to meet his eye. “It means a lot.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence. Partly because the lump in my throat is literally preventing words from coming out.
But also because I don’t want to ruin the moment we shared.
We’ve been through a lot this past month in Blaire, Gavin and me.
Some of it was good, but mostly we were at odds with each other.
It made me think we got along better when we lived separate lives.
But now I realize the bickering isn’t a sign we don’t care—it’s proof that we do.
As we approach the field sectioned off in front of the town hall, my eyes widen at the sight.
“This doesn’t look like the same place.”
“They must have finally mowed the grass for the booths,” Gavin points out. “It looks great.”
“Yeah, and so do all the displays.” There’s a clear pathway between the rows of booths, each one with its own specialty goods displayed.
Callie is setting up her jars of honey with her mom on cute stands scattered around their table.
Dr. Blaire brought an ice chest with her ice cream and yogurt.
Jean has two booths, one for her eggs and the other for her flower arrangements.
Even Hal has a booth set up with his cozies and naturally dyed clothes on display.
I spot Mom in the corner, setting up her kimchi jars with Dad.
I motion for Gavin to follow me to join them.
“Wow, Elena. It’s better than I could’ve imagined,” Gavin says, his eyes bouncing from one booth to another.
A grin instantly takes over my face. “I can’t take all the credit, though.
This is a collaborative effort. I only had the idea for the fair.
Just hope people show up.” As soon as I say this, we turn the corner, and I see them.
About a dozen camera crews and reporters.
When they notice me, they rush up to me, clamoring.
“Elena, tell us about your time here. What inspired you to create your own fair?”
“Elena, your resilience is an inspiration. Tell us how you coped with being isolated here.”
“Elena, you’re looking very svelte. What’s your new fitness routine?”
“Elena, Elena, Elena…”
Stunned, we stand there in the middle of an aisle in the fair while the barrage of questions keeps coming. People around us stop setting up their booths to stare at us. Gavin and I exchange a glance. His expression asks if I’m okay. When I give him a look that says I am, he takes a step back.
With the attention on me, the reporters quiet down and shove their mics closer to my face.
“I’d be happy to tell you more about it, but now is not the time. I’m here to focus on the homegrown, handmade products Blaire has to offer,” I tell the reporters. The less I say, the more relentless the press becomes.
“Have you done any treatments? Your skin looks amazing,” a reporter shouts.
I decide to try something different. “This lavender milk bath is the reason my skin is so refreshed. And the calming effects of lavender help me sleep at night, so I’m always well rested.”
“What’s your love life been like here? Have you been dating?” another reporter asks.
“The only dates I’ve had are these date preserves.” I hold up a jar so it gets as much coverage as my face.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jean, Dr. Blaire, and Annabel watching me with unreadable expressions on their faces.
A media circus with me at the center of it.
I have to explain to them that I’m not using this town to boost my self-image before they get the wrong idea, so I excuse myself and head over to them.
“I’m so sorry about this. It wasn’t my intention to create a scene. I only wanted to spread the word about the fair to bring more customers to us.” I look apologetically at Jean, Dr. Blaire, and Annabel.
“Honey, are you kidding? This is fantastic!” Jean claps her hands together.
That’s when I look at the parking lot. It’s full.
“People came?” I say, shocked.
Dr. Blaire nods enthusiastically. “We haven’t seen this much interest since Daniel became the mayor of a town that shared its name with his wife”—she points to herself—“but even that was nothing compared to this.”
“So you don’t mind the media?” I peer up at them nervously.
“Mind?” Annabel says. “Why would we mind something that is doing so much good for our town?” She motions around us.
We still have five minutes before the fair officially opens, and there are already people lining up at the stalls.
“The sales from today’s event alone will be more than the beautification fund has ever had, and if it continues, we’ll be able to make all of the improvements,” Annabel goes on.
“Because of you, Blaire will finally get the attention it needs.”
I want to continue our conversation, but the crowd keeps building, making it impossible.
With a reassuring glance from each of the women, we part ways to divide and conquer.
As I help Mom sell her kimchi, I feel the guilt wash away and turn into something else.
Something warm and cozy, like one of Hal’s creations.
Without the attention from my family, I tried to fill the void by getting it elsewhere.
From the media. From my fans. And from my association with this person or that.
But no matter how much I tried to fill the void, I still felt empty.
Doing something good for this town feels good, but what feels better is knowing I have relationships that aren’t tethered to my popularity.
Mom hands me a phone, startling me. “It’s for you,” she says. In the busyness of the day, I forgot we could use our phones today and left mine at home.
“Who is it?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs.
I take the phone from her. “Hello?”
“Elena, hon.” A familiar voice at the other end takes me by surprise.
“Kiki?” I startle. I didn’t expect to hear from her. “How’d you get this number?”
“I didn’t get to be the best at what I do without having any connections.
There isn’t a number I can’t find,” she says.
“I’m getting calls for you left and right.
Let’s start with the big ones first and see what you can manage.
When are you back in town?” She stops herself.
“What am I saying? We’ll send you a car—we’ll send a plane if we have to. ”
“Wow. All this for me?” I’ve never heard Kiki this excited. Not even when I got the highly coveted invite to the Met Gala.
“I know. I’m so proud of you. Not only did you take my advice to eat, pray, love your way through this crisis, but you also put the town of the forgotten back on the map. The people love you for your selfless efforts. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.”
But that’s the thing. I didn’t plan it. And like she said, she could have gotten in touch with me sooner if she’d wanted to.
What happens when I lose my relevance again?
Is she—and everyone else I surrounded myself with before—going to forget my number?
I don’t know if I can handle that type of fickleness.
“Kiki, I appreciate it, but I’m going to have to get back to you.”
“When? We can’t keep these people waiting. We have to strike while the iron’s hot. Or else the public might forget about you again.”
“Not if I forget them first.”
News Update
Updated now
In response to the investigation and bankruptcy filing, It’s Ok!
’s CEO Dale Ok has stepped down from his position, handing control over to a board of directors consisting of a mix of existing and newly hired executives.
Their first task as a board was to reassign the former CEO.
The title of internal director was proposed to Ok, where he would have a large role providing valuable input in the day-to-day running of the company he built from the ground up.
However grateful he was for the opportunity to stay connected with It’s Ok!
, Ok has ultimately decided to turn the position down.
While he has expressed interest in retaining his shares, he does not intend to stay in the fashion business and is looking to move on to greener pastures.